Quaker Gun
by this.pen.is.red
Summary: For Prose Vanity- Because the roads not taken are the ones most interesting to explore. A series of one-shot/drabbles branching from canon and delving into AU.


**Quaker Gun  
**

_Because the roads not taken are the ones most interesting to explore. A series of one-shot/drabbles branching from canon and delving into AU.  
_

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**Disclaimer: **If Gakuen Alice were mine, Hotaru would be 16 and gorgeous and having a reverse harem, ok? So yeah, needless to say, GA is not mine. XD

**Author's Note:** _HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY ASHYYYY (Prose_ Vanity). If you know her, give her a quick hug tomorrow, because she deserves it, yeah? ;)

I can't say much, only that I love you and that I'm so glad that I got to know you as a person. I think I should be giving you something better than this, but my writing skills are still a little rusty, and I need to get my feels out. I thought this would be the perfect idea, because I know how much you're fangirling over the latest chapter, too! Hehehe. ^_^

This entire collection will be dedicated to you, and I REALLY hope that I can commit to this and _finish it_. LOL XD. But you know what an expert procrastinator I am, so no serious promises about regular updates, hahaha.

Anyway, the way this is going to work is that I (hopefully) will get some prompts from my reviewers who want a sort of 'what-if' fic to be written about GA that _could be_ canon, but maybe not. Which is why I called it Quaker Gun, because famously, the Quaker Gun was a deceptive military tool that _looked_ like a cannon (hehe, getz it, 'canon'?) but actually wasn't.

So therefore, reviews are GREATLY appreciated if you've got any ideas that I could make a new chapter on. Hehe. ^_^

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**Prompt No. 1: Hotaru's Death**

Four years. How did time pass so quickly?

Just yesterday, they were saying goodbye to Mikan, seeing her off to the gate, hoping inwardly with an unparalleled ardor that Natsume would get there to join the crowd. Just yesterday, they were young children who knew nothing about the world, and yet walked around with a resolve that would have surely made them laugh today. _Just yesterday_.

Now, every single soul who was there to see the brunette exit the academy clasps onto the past as they forget the inconsequential in-betweens. _Because nothing matters as much as Mikan Sakura._

If there is anything that time brings, however, it is a sense of ratiocination that calls for some kind of disillusionment. Ruka knows this well.

He overhears the people around him exchange words about Mikan and her legendary existence, and he subconsciously rolls his eyes. This must have been the third time in the past hour.

"That was her seat."

"Seriously, it's so sad that she's gone now. Now this seat is so empty."

And he cannot help but to think about someone other than Mikan. He thinks of the past, but far before she even came into the academy, a time when that chair was filled with someone else's presence.

Her jet-black hair, and strikingly purple eyes. He knows that he's not dreaming her up, because he has proof – the shameful pictures she stole of him, the receipts she scribbled with her petite handwriting, and a gun that only shoots fists. She existed, and he doesn't quite understand why he seems to be the only one who _cares_.

He once asked Natsume about her, when they were fourteen.

"Hey Natsume," he had said, to which his best friend raised an eyebrow. "Do you remember the reason why Mikan came into the academy in the first place?"

Natsume simply shrugged, uninterested in the topic. "I guess she found it by accident."

"Oh," Ruka had responded quickly.

Strangely enough, he believed it then. Even if, deep in his heart, he knew there had to be something more than that.

But one day, as he was cleaning his room out, he found a box sealed tight with a lock. He couldn't open the lock without a key, and he began to search for it, but he grew impatient.

By some means, he was enthralled by the notion of the box, and stopped at nothing to discover its contents. So he did the only thing he could—he broke the lock.

Inside, to his surprise, he found the receipts, pictures and gun. _And a letter_.

He remembered that it was a simple, pallid sheet of paper. Her handwriting was as gentle and as neat as he had recalled, and although the paper was slightly crumpled, it still retained a trace of her lilac scent. It read, quite simply:

_Hyuuga, _

_Do something right for once in your life and marry her. _

_Mikan, _

_Remember I told you that you are ugly when you cry. So don't. Ever. _

He still remembers the moment when he read the brief note. In an instant, he was upset, not so much because he wasn't able to derive anything particularly useful from the messages, but because even if they did not necessarily mean much to him ostensibly, underneath it all, he could swear he heard her impassive voice serenading him.

And he shed a tear because he knew that this- as unorthodox as it may have been- was the way she would profess her love to her friends. He shed a tear because she gave up her life in order that her best friend kept a smile on her face. _He shed a tear because no one cared. _

Ruka sighs. He doesn't know why he recalls it now, of all times.

When Natsume picks up his things and confesses that he will find Mikan and meet up with her again, Ruka doesn't really know what to say or feel. Because today, he can't help but to hate Natsume for not remembering.

He keeps picturing it—Hotaru, telling Noda to leave without her and bring a half-conscious Natsume back to life. He sees the look on her face—one of content—that infuriates him beyond belief. She lived her entire life thinking only of herself, but she chose that one moment—that crucial moment—in which to think of others. And now she's gone.

Ruka thinks, _Natsume and Mikan are to be together, but at what expense?_

And it sickens him to the core. Mikan would never remember her or the lengths to which she went to ensure a smile on her face. The students around know nothing about her sacrifice, and even Natsume lives his life normally, as if she means absolutely nothing to his existence.

Romeo and Juliet would be together, but then why does it feel so wrong?

_Honestly, if that is love_, Ruka inwardly confesses, _then I want nothing to do with it_.

He tells Natsume that he wishes him well, and that he's happy for him, hoping that his best friend doesn't catch his half-heartedness.

When Natsume leaves, Ruka retreats to his room.

He drops a flower onto a forgotten baka-gun.

_Four years._

How quickly they forget.

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Oooh, angstay. Anyway, again, reviews are greatly appreciated.

AND AGAIN:

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING FFN WRITERS AND PEOPLE IN GENERAL THAT I HAVE EVER HAD THE PLEASURE OF KNOWING**!

Ashy, I love thee, and I hope you forgive me even if this isn't exactly... erm... up to par? HUHUHU


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